


Best Day

by Chiru



Series: Calendar [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, I swear 2005 was yesterday, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-18
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 18:22:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1122926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiru/pseuds/Chiru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Bertholdt first sees the new kid, he has no idea of how close they'd get, and the cracks it would make in his safe and calm little life. The newcomer may not force him into public speaking, but that doesn't meant he won't make him sweat. For various reasons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The begining of their second semestre of 11th grade came bearing an unexpected gift. The classroom was abuzz with excited chatting, mumbling and rumours flowing down the rows. The new teacher indulged the teenagers as she set her things on the desk and sorted her materials. Naturally the class hadn't calmed by the time she was done, but she was not one to waste time.

“Attention please!” A few more considerate students became quiet and turned to face her while the grand majority didn't give a rats tail about the presence of the teacher. It took two fierce slams onto the desk to finally instal silence and order.

“You will all have time to catch up during recess. If any of you interrupt my class from his point on, I will not hesitate to send a note home or, in case of repeated offence, throw you out of my class.” The threats were, as expected, answered in various ways, a few disbelieving snorts here and there, nervous shuffling of chairs elsewhere. “As you all must realize, I am your substitute teacher for Physics for the rest of the year as Miss Green is on maternity leave. My name is Paula Gilbert. Now, I know you-”

A faint knock on the door interrupted the teacher's speech, and soft murmurs revived amongst the students. “Silence!” She demanded, before sighing, pushing her glasses further up her nose and making for the door. The quiet didn't last as the teacher spoke with somebody behind the wood. Students moved in their seat to try and see what was going on, many silent yells of 'I told you so!' echoing in the room.

“Quiet everybody!” Sounded the fierce voice as the owner turned her attention back to the class. She paced back to her desk, and was followed by a teenage boy, tall, black hair, a face full of freckles. He carefully closed the door, smiling to whoever was on the other side before moving to her desk.

“Boys and girls, as many of you clearly already heard, you have a transfer student in your class.” The teacher gestured at the boy, who offered the classroom a soft bright smile. “Hi, I'm Marco.” The teen spoke.

“Take a seat wherever you want.” She nudged the boy forward by his shoulder before turning back to the class as a whole. “Luckily for Marco, I don't know any of you either, so let's do some real quick introductions. Say your name, a hobby and what your opinion is on physics. Feel free to be honest because it wont count for your grade-”

This was the point Bertholdt stopped paying full attention as he was nearing panic mode. No, not introductions, please, anything but that! He was horrible at these sorts of things- nothing flustered him more than being the center of attention, and no, it didn't really make a difference if it was only for a minute or two. What if he said something stupid, or the teacher asked a follow-up question? Oh no oh no oh no...

It was a struggle to get his focus back on the main event inside the classroom, but he knew he needed it, needed to hear what the others said, how the teacher reactioned- did she asked follow-up questions?!

Tunning back in he'd just missed the A's (she's going by alphabethical order, good, good, then at least he knew when it'd be his turn- ohhh, but if she'd gone by seating he'd probably be later, darn...) and was at the start of the B's.

“Sasha Bauss, I like eating. Physics, not being edible, it not something I care about much. I prefer Chemistry.” The girl two rows in front of him stated, a proud smile on her lips.

“Because it relates to... cooking?” The teacher suggested.

“Exactly.” Sasha eyed the teacher, a clear smile of approval on her face.

“Well, if you say so. Bodt?”

All eyes turned to the new kid. Bertholdt shouldn't care, really, but the teen in question sat diagonally behind him, and he could feel many of the gazes aimed at him scraping past his skin. He turned his body further, trying to look as normally and casually interested as he could.

“Marco Bodt. I like walking dogs. I think physics are pretty ok.” He shrugged a little, smiling pleasantly. Bertholdt registered the movement, noting how it worked. Perfect balance between disinterest without seeming rude. He could use that.

“I thought children your ages hated chores like dog-walking.”

“Oh, no, I love dogs. Back where I came from I used to walked all the dogs in the street.”

“Huhm,” The teacher smiled. She looked nice like that, Bertholdt thought. A lot more accessible. He pondered if trying for a smile was worth the danger of an extra question. (No, he quickly decided, it wasn't.) “Make some nice change with that, I recon.”

“Only a little from those that insisted upon it. I really just do it because I enjoy it.”

“Well well, I may have to check if you don't live in my block then. I own a great dane myself.”

“Please do.” And there was Marco's amused yet polite smile. Again. Or still? Bertholdt wasn't sure if the corner of his mouth had ever actually dropped.

“It won't help your grade though, Bodt.” A small laugh from here and there, another smiling shrug from the boy in question. “Braun.”

“Here.” Boomed Reiner's deep voice from Bertholdt's right. “Reiner Braun. I like sport, and I like physics too. Without it my tackles wouldn't be half as efficient.” He grinned. His big and cocky grin was nothing like the meak smile from the previous boy, but Bertholdt couldn't help but chuckle, and he wasn't the only one. Reiner was everybody's friend (though only Bertholdt's best friend). There was just no way to not love the guy. He emanated charisma almost as easily as Bert emitted a sweaty smell when he was nervous.

“A gravity joke. Very smart.” The teacher sounded anything but impressed, but it was still clear that his answer had entertained her, for that small smile was back.

Bert focused on putting together his line. He wouldn't try to be funny, he didn't need any extra attention on him. Something easy, something simple, no complicated words he could mess up on. And especially nothing that invited a conversation. Hobby hobby hobby...

“Pssst, Bertl- hey, Bertl!”

He look to his side, where Reiner was trying to get his attention. The boy smiled and pointed at Bert's empty desk. 'Write it down', he mouthed. He wasn't sure if that was worth it. It seemed like making a big deal out of something so small- oh, who was he kidding, everybodies eyes would be on him, it was a pretty big deal! So what if he'd know most of these kids since the 5th!

'Thank you,' he mouthed back at Reiner. He grabbed a notepad from his bag, noticed Reiner winking at him, shook his head in contained entertainment and focussed on his task.

'Bertholdt Fubar'. Yes, that part was easy. 'I like reading.' he wrote down, paused. Most generic and boring hobby ever, damn... Would that invite a follow-up question though? Probably. She'd ask what he liked to read. Or his favourite book. What would he- no, wait, first finish this. Physics. 'I don't specially care for physics.' and then the new kid's smiling shrug. Or Bert's variation. Which'd probably be a lot more nervous looking. No matter. He wrote down two more lines, one stating his favourite genre and another his favourite book. That should do.

He reread the lines a few times before focusing back on the introductions. He felt a little more confident as his time approached. It was mostly Reiner's theory that he did better with public speaking when he had his text memorized and written down somewhere, but Bertholdt appreciated the thought. It worked too, often enough. Bert had always been good at memorizing what he read...

“Fubar.”

“Here.” He cleared his throat, trying to ignore the burning sensation of all the eyes locked on him. All he needed to do was not think about it and not make eyecontact with anybody but the teacher. It was just her. A friendly chat with a teacher. Oh gods teacher- no. Remember her smile. She's nice. C'mon. “Bertholdt Fubar. I like reading. I don't specially care for physics.”

“Fair enough,” the teacher answered. Damn, he'd forgotten the smiling shrug thing. Was it too late fo- yes, yes it was. “What do you like to read?”

Thank heavens, a question he'd prepared for. “Mostly biographies and true stories, though I like fiction too.”

“Science fiction?”

“Uh,” He swallowed. Unknown territory. And everybody still looking at him. Suddenly the cold classroom was boiling. No, calm down, just answer. “I- I don't m-mind it.” That was good, calm down, that was good.

“Of course. Not much physics there. Gardener.” And with a snort here and there, the classes attention shifted again.

Bertholdt went beet red, shielded his face with his hands and stared at his desk. Damn. No, it wasn't that bad. It was just a joke. It's ok. He took a deep breath and as he was about to drop his arms, face still red, he felt something hard connect with his shin.

“Ouch! You-” He threw a glance to the teacher, still distracted, thank lord, and hissed at Reiner. “What was that for?”

The big blonde bully (not really) just smirked and shrugged before turning back in front, sitting extra straight and folding his hands on his desk, forcing the most innocent smile onto his face: playing model student.

Bertholdt snorted, shook his head with a smile on his features. Reiner glanced at him from the corner of his eyes, and the smile turned to a grin.

Stupid friend.

 

Soon came the break, and a large group of kids swarmed to Marco, the novelity. Reiner and Bert stayed aside, catching up. Although there wasn't much to catch up on, since they'd seen each other regularly during the holidays, but there was always something else to say. Reiner seemed eager to go make the new kid's acquintance, because 'he really shouldn't be missing out on my greatness'. Bert just smiled and shook his head. He knew it was an act, even if many others weren't sure whether the burly blonde was truly as cocky as he made believe or not. But he was Reiner's best friend. He understood that just because the uncertainties were coated with a show-off attitude didn't mean they weren't real. Reiner stayed with him during the break because Connie and Sasha were already cornering the kid, and Mina was in a different class this year. He wouldn't leave his Bertl alone. Reiner was nice like that.

The rest of their classes until lunch passed without incidents- by which Bertholdt meant there were no more impromptu public speaking attacks. He walked with Reiner to the cafeteria, grabbed their meal and made for their usual table. It didn't take long for Mina to join them, Connie and Sasha with the new acquisition in tow not far behind.

The short boy slammed his tray down besides Reiner and bowed, a wicked grin on his cheeks. “I have secured the newcommer, my leige.”

“Very well, servant. You may leave.” Reiner put on his most disinterested face and made a waving gesture to shush the boy away. Connie laughed at slapped his hand. “HEY!” He did a horrible job at pretending to be offended.

Marco walked around the table, a playful smile on his face. Mina skooted aside, invited the boy to sit between herself and Bertholdt, to be at the center (since he'd be where all the attention was going to direct anyway). The new teen thanked her and sat down without much ado. “I'm Marco.” He introduced himseld to the only one that wasn't in his class. “Mina Carolina.” She answered, her cheeks tinted. She looked adorable like that, Bertholdt thought.

“Welcome to our humble high school.” Reiner spoke, still with his dramatic voice on. “What brings you here, oh wayward traveller?”

Bert could only roll his eyes at the theatrics. If they weren't careful Marco would soon be under the impression they were the drama group (or the local fools, though those titles were in fact proudly owned by two of the present). Not that theatre was a bad thing, but Bert would hate it to cause any sort of misunderstanding.

“Business, kind lord.” A soft wave of 'oooh' was shared by Connie and Sasha, happy to see the kid playing along. “My caretaker has found an opportunity within your realm. We are most grateful for your warm welcome.” He nodded politely, an unbreakable smile etched deep into his features.

Reiner grinned happily. “Must've been a bitch to move halfway the schoolyear.” And just like that the antics were gone. For now. Bertholdt knew his friends too well to expect this sense of normality to last. “If you need anything or anybody bothers you, come to me. I am kinda like the leader of the clan. Hey, do you play DnD?”

“A little.”

“Cool, I'll invite you over next time then. Wanna trade numbers?”

After seven minutes of chaos, everybody had Marco's phone number and Marco had everybody else's, and lunch's entertainment (read: Marco) could finally eat for a while. Reiner was already done, since he ate faster than anybody Bert had ever seen (Sasha ate more, but not faster), and Connie had started throwing peas at the girl, who was having fun trying to catch them, but would get hilariously mad when she missed and was force to give up on the small ball of green goodness as it rolled under a neighbouring table.

By the time Marco was done with his meal, Reiner had joined the clown duo's game by pinching Connie in the side whenever he was about to throw, and later securing the boy while the girl stole the rest of his meal. Mina was laughing at them, and normally Bertholdt would join, but they had company today, and though Marco observed the charade with a shine in his eyes, Bert still thought it rude to ignore the newcommer.

“What are you favourite subjects?” He dared ask not something more personal.

“I like biology. I want to be a vet.” Bert wasn't surprised by this answer. He returned the smile (which he was now certain was permanently carved into the freckled cheeks). “You?”

“I like english.”

“Right, of course, sorry. What's your favourite book?”

“I don't really have just one. But I really liked Anne Frank's diary... Do you read?”

He wouldn't hear the answer to this question for a few more hours (it was a yes), as Reiner pushed Connie off the bench and turned his attention back on the others with a satisfied grin. “So,” he interrupted, “Marco, you play sports or anything?”

“I used to be in track at my old school, but I'm thinking of trying something else now. I'm not bad at football, but I don't like how competitive it is...”

“HA!” Reiner hit his hand on the table. “Only losers don't like competition. Join the team and I guarantee you'll stop minding it!” Bert gave his friend a scolding glance at this. Reiner had the bad habit of saying things a little too harshly at times, an understandable side-effect of his play at superiority, and, more often, the hyper disregard emitted by the two who were fighting over Connie's fork besides him.

“Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean it that way.” He corrected quickly, his apologetic smile aimed more at Bert than the one it should have. “We have a pretty strong team, though, for real. It'd be fun if you joined.”

Marco seemed unaffected by the exchange. “I'll think about it.” He offered.

The bell rang and they all went to put away their trays before heading for their next class. They said goodbye to Mina, as she went into a different direction, and were ultimately left behind as Connie dared Sasha for a race to the door and off they went.

Reiner walked a little more in front, leading the way. Bertholdt didn't mind. He didn't exactly remember where their next class was anyway. Marco laughed softly as the crazy two ran off. “They are...” He seemed to be unsure how to finish his sentence.

“Adorable?” Reiner suggested, and Marco shrugged with a knowing smile. It was exactly what he had thought, he just deemed it inappropriate for people he knew so shortly. “They aren't actually dating though.” Reiner continued, contemplative. “Nobody really knows why. What about you, Marco? Any girl you were forced to leave behind?”

“Well...” The boy seemed torn about what to answer. Reiner, no longer under the influence of the spastic two, picked up on it.

“Know that I am a faithful romantic and do in all forms support the possibility of a long distance relationship flourishing.” He almost added a bow, but chose against it. He was already playing dangerous, case things had indeed gone sour.

“No, no,” The freckled teen shook his head, forever smiling. He seemed a little apologetic though. Or reprehensive? Like he was unsure about saying the words that followed so soon. “Nothing like that. I didn't have anybody, and, well... I'm gay.”

He sought their faces for reactions, wishing this didn't bring the end to the shortest friendship ever, while knowing there would have been no point in dragging things out either. Both boys perked up at the words, one of them with a blush.

“Oh really?” Reiner said, happily and without a care in the world. “So is Bertl.”

Their eyes met behind his back, but only for a minute, before both directed their gaze at something else entirely.


	2. Chapter 2

A few days into the semester Bert and Marco went to watch football practice. When the newcomer had been indecisive regarding the sport Reiner had insisted for him to "just assist at least once and talk with the coach" before making his decision. Because of the badly timed transfer it was unlikely he got a spot in any of the team sports, but he could always try, the blonde had insisted.

Bertholdt wasn't quite sure if he had offered his company or if it had been Reiner, but it didn't matter much. He didn't mind either way. Marco was a very nice and friendly guy. Bertholdt didn't mind hanging out with him at all. (In fact, he dared to think he may prefer his presence to the crazy two- b-but only because they were always so loud and attention seeking!)

There was only one thing about Marco that put Bertholdt badly at ease. Well, not so much that, it would be more correct to say he kept him just a little on edge. Wary? Perhaps a little... self-conscious? It was Reiner's fault, really. Knowing both of them were gay and got long and all, he simply couldn't stop the thought from popping into his mind. It wasn't like he had fallen head over heals for the other boy just because they shared a sexuality of course, he barely knew him! But he was, indeed, very nice and friendly and pleasant and maybe Bertholdt hadn't ever had a real boyfriend before and maybe he felt a little needy (of both emotional and... physical attention) at times. Maybe. As a healthy teenager he dared to think it was normal... right?

“Do you really not play any sports?” The sweet voice of his classmate interrupted Bertholdt's pondering, and he spun back to the situation at hand.

“Oh, no. Well, I like badminton, but there's not much chance to play around here. Reiner indulges me in a game every now and then, but he doesn't much like to lose...”

“Haha, yes, I've noticed. Do you have a net?”

“Not a real one. We tie a rope between two trees in my back garden. We used to use sheets, but my mom didn't really appreciate the worn out corners and grass stains.”

Marco laughed at this, shaking his head. When his eyes flicked back to the boys on field passing the ball, he spoke again. “I can play a little, and I don't mind getting my butt handed to me.”

Since they were sitting just outside the ray of hot spotlights Bert seriously hoped his blush would pass unnoticed. Marco's phrasing was a little... ok, no, nothing to it. He was simply being stupid. Minds are not meant to be in the gutter. Gosh. “Ok, I'll invite you over someday.” He forced out after another beat of conflict with himself.

“Cool.” The freckled boy answered in low tone as he knocked his knee softly against Bert's.

 

 

The 21st of January, Mina's birthday, fell on a Friday, and the girl had invited all of them (Marco included) for a get-together at hers that night. About twenty people were invited, some new classmates of hers and two cousins she was good friends with. It wasn't a large number of people for a party, but it also wasn't a party, and as such, Bertholdt was under the decided impression that Mina's considerable living room was overcrowded. Not that it wasn't fun- he strolled from one group of chatting kids to another, caught its and bits of conversation and had a pretty good idea of who was most likely going to win that round of uno, but felt a little out of place none the less.

He didn't really know anybody besides Mina and the gang. But the hostess was busy with her cousins (sweet girls though, Bert had met them last year) and Sasha and Connie were most certainly cheating at the card game. Reiner was talking with a girl from Mina's class (who was doing the cute head-duck & blush thing) and Marco... Marco seemed gone for the moment. It wasn't that Bertholdt couldn't mingle and make new friends, of course not, he just didn't care to do so when he'd be butting in and ruining a well-flowing conversation.

With a smile he backed off and stepped outside for a moment. The air was icy cold and clung to his skin. He enjoyed in advance how comfortable the warm house would feel when he would finally walk back inside. A little breather was all he needed, he knew. In a few minutes he'd go back in and sit down together with a friendly looking group and wait patiently until he could jump into the conversation when the absolute perfect moment, which would surely present itself, finally came..

He stood collecting the cold for a good five minutes before the door inched open.

“Hey,” came, unexpectedly, Marco's voice. Bert had been waiting for Reiner to fetch him, if anybody. But it made sense that he was busy. No reason to let Bertl ruin his good time. He smiled, a little sadly, to himself. Couldn't expect to always be his friend's number one priority (not even best friend's).

“Hi.”

“What are you doing out here? It's freezing.” The boy spoke again, rubbing his arms with his hands. Bert just shrugged. “You ok?” He continued, seeking to meet the taller boy's eyes.

“Yeah, sorry. You can go back inside if you want, it is pretty cold.”

“What about you?”

“I'm an oven,” he parroted what Reiner used to tell him since they were kids. Whenever they had sleepovers, Bertl would always sleep with a blanket less and be perfectly fine temperature wise. “I have the best resistance against cold ever.” He tried a smile, and, non-surprisingly, found it well accepted and eagerly returned. No. Marco never really dropped the corners of his mouth.

“I'll stay just a little longer.” The freckled teen insisted, and it was nice.

They stood out on the porch for a good three more minutes before the shorter boy's trembling got so bad he had no choice but to give in. “Ok, I wanna keep you company but it's really really absurdly cold- are you sure you're not ready yet to go back in?” He asked, pleaded almost.

Bertholdt laughed in response. He was pretty cold himself. He may have been pushing himself to see how long the other would hold out. May have.

They went back inside, and that was nice too.

 

 

It would have been the third time that Bertholdt, Reiner and Marco would get together to play games on Bertholdt's PlayStation2. The first time had been an invitation out of politeness, mostly, cautiously suggested by Bert and enthusiastically supported by his best friend. Instantly, Marco proved to be (not surprisingly) an absolutely joy of a gaming partner. He played better than Bert at the games Reiner was great at, but never better than Reiner himself, and the blonde enjoyed the challenge. After owning the screen for a while in MGS2, and maybe spreading some chaos and destruction in GTA San Andreas, the blonde would almost willingly put up with a few minutes of Final Fantasy X or something of the sort, which made Bertholdt's appreciation grow too. Naturally, after the first success, Marco became a permanent addition to game-afternoon.

About ten minutes before time, Bert got a message from Reiner warning he wouldn't be able to make it. Something came up at work for his mom and he needed to stay put and watch over his little sister. Bertl offered to move the gathering to his place, but when the blonde answered that “lil' Charlotte was feeling a lil' under the weather” (Reiner was a horrible doting big brother, really, the girl was 11 and he still treated her like she was three) there was nothing more to do.

Bertholdt quickly texted Marco, but he didn't get an answer. He understood why when his doorbell rang a mere two minutes later.

“Hi, come in.” Bertholdt stepped aside to allow him into the house.

“Sorry, I was almost here and don't have much money on my phone...”

“It's ok, I don't mind.”

“Why's Reiner not coming?” The boy was visibly stalling to take off his scarf and coat. Bert didn't know if it was because he wasn't sure if he was still welcome, or if he wasn't sure if he still wanted to stay.

“His younger sister has a cold and his mom needed to go into town, so he has to look after her. You... you're still welcome to stay and play, if you want. Since you, you know, you're already here.”

“Yeah?” His smile. Bertholdt was starting to realize that, just because Marco's smile was permanent, didn't mean it couldn't grow at times. (He rarely saw it decrease though.) “I'd like that.” Only then did he start to take off his winter protections.

They spend the time playing FFX, talking randomly about classes, their friends, Sasha and Connie's last public disaster, and so on. Half an hour before Marco would have to leave to go home for dinner, Bertholdt's mom brought them both a cup of hot chocolate milk and half a pack of cookies. They thanked her and sat silently side by side on Bert's bed, cradling their hot drinks in their hands. Bertholdt explained how these particular cookies were absolutely perfect to dip, seriously, and soon they had finished the pack, again just holding the nearly cold mugs, and silence settled between then.

“Hey, Bert...”

“Yeah?” The tall boy answered, softer than intended, feeling a little nervous. Was he imagining the sudden heavy atmosphere or was it truly there? Surely it was just a figment of his imagination... right?

“I was thinking... maybe... would you... euhm...”

Ok, no, he was definitely not making it up. A blush rushed to his face and he stared ahead determined to eliminate the chance of trading accidental glances. Little did he know the blood had shot to Marco's freckles and he too was eying the bookshelves and those empty waiting spots next to the Order of the Phoenix with renewed interest.

“Would you like to try dating?” Marco finally blurted, his eyes falling to his knees. He started to spin his cup clockwise. “I- I mean... I kind of like you and think, that, you know, maybe...” He fell silent.

And the silence lasted too long for either of their likes. Marco because he was nervous, Bertholdt because his mouth refused to open and give a reply. But whenever he was halfway coaxing it through working, Marco would fiddle and Bert's heart would hammer against his chest and impair him of action once more.

“Sorry,” Marco mumbled, and cast a sideways glance, interpreting the silence as a rejection and readying himself to give the other boy a way out. “I didn't mean to-”

“N-no!” Bert manages to sputter, finally, turned in Marco's direction. “I mean, yes! I mean... ugh!” He hid his red face in his sleeves and groaned in light frustration. Pulling the arms away, the blush hadn't subdued in the slightest, but he wouldn't stand for even another moment of this attitude from himself. Sometimes one needs to be strict with oneself! “Yes, I- I would like that.” He swallowed, his head feeling like it was about to explode.

And then Marco beamed.

It didn't help the feeling of explosion.

 

 

That Monday, at lunch, there were no announcements to be made. The boys had agreed they would slowly see where things would head- they both preferred it that way. Yet, for as far as Bertholdt was concerned, the path they were on was heading for the clouds. They had shared not more than a chaste little kiss (or maybe seven, before his mom called from down the stairs to warn it was dinner time) because neither was much experienced and both were nervous enough to sit out their curiosity for a little longer, but Bert could still feel the warm and fuzzy excitement in his stomach. They already sat next to each other often enough at lunch, so nobody noticed that they were suddenly putting active effort into it. They already spent time together outside of classes with the rest of their friends, so that was nothing new either. During the first days, the only things truly different was the feeling with which they enjoyed each other's company and the occasional not quite accidental closeness of their hands and knees.

Marco had opted out of joining any sports, despite Reiner's insistence, and it had already become routine for them to drop Reiner off at the locker rooms before each heading their own way. But as Reiner disappeared behind the door that Wednesday afternoon, it was deliciously (though nervously) obvious to both boys that it was time for said routine to be broken.

They chatted, not quite distracted, as they walked together, but neither brought up the change. They didn't need to. Just as, after many carelessly purposeful brushes from both side, they didn't need to acknowledge that their hands had joined.

Despite the cold they both felt comfortable and warm, and agreed to sit on a bench for a little bit. Their hands stayed together, nestled between their thighs.

“Do your parents know?” Bert asks out of the blue.

“About us?” He blushed softly and shook his head. “No, I mean, we said we were going to-”

Bertholdt squeezes his hand, just enough to make him stop and get his attention. He shook his head. “I mean about you being gay.”

“Oh, yes. They say it doesn't really make a difference to them. It's not like they have to worry about the continuation of the family name anyway.”

Bert thought it was a curious thing to say, and the glimmer in Marco's eyes was a telltale sign of a story. He stared at the other, smiling at the entertainment on Marco's distracted face, and gave a questioning hum, hoping to get more information without having to prod. It seemed to take the other boy (would it be safe to think of him as his boyfriend yet?... probably not) a moment to realize he needed to expand. He scratched at his nose, and somehow the movement was apologetic. Bert had no idea how Marco did it though.

“I have two older brothers, and, well, the oldest had a baby boy last autumn. It's the cutest thing ever, I swear, I'm not just saying that because it's my nephew.” The endearment with which Marco spoke almost made Bertholdt want to believe him.

“What are their names?” He asked, not merely faking the interest. It dawned him he'd never gone to Marco's home.

“Liam and Oliver. Liam's boy is Ethan. We're all calling him Ethie though. I'm sure he's going to grow up to hate us all.” He sniggered, and Bertholdt wondered if any baby boy could be quite as cute as the sight before him. He shrugged the thought off, because he was pretty sure it was a creepy one, comparing babies with boyfriends. (No, no, too soon to think of him like that... Bertholdt thought it should be embarrassing but the sweet smile on Marco's face just made him feel warm inside.)

“I've never been to yours.”

“They don't live with us anymore though. Oliver's off to college too.”

“Still.” Bertholdt insisted softly, and gently squeezed their hands together.

“Do you want to come over on Saturday?”

“Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One day I will try to write a fast paced story. Where stuff happens. And I don't take 5 chapters to get to the damn point. Someday.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading! Feel free to leave like, a comment of something. If you want. ~~please~~


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not alive.

Next Monday came with happy news and an unexpected guest at the friends's lunch table. Marco and Bertholdt sat next to each other, as had become the norm, with Reiner sitting opposite of his Bertl, as had always been the norm. Yet next to Reiner, instead of a flippant Sasha or goofy Connie, sat a lovely, quiet red head girl, a soft blush residing near permanently on her cheeks. Bertholdt recognized her as one of the girls from Mina's new class, not surpringly the same that had been (in retrospect obviously) flirting with Reiner at the girl's birthday get-together.

The two were now dating, Reiner's bold voice stated the obvious, and the girl, Eva was her name, bumped her shoulder softly against his arm, acting coy, but clearly not upset at the statement. Connie, forever single and strangly idolizing towards the burly blond, was jealous, not so much of the catch but rather of the relationship status. This surprised nobody. Everybody else congratulated them, until, to everyones surprise, Sasha too let out a deep sigh.

“I wish I could get a girlfriend too.”

“What?” Everybody stared at her, a little surprised (except for Connie, who's jaw was attempted to jump off his skull and get the fuck out of there).

“We'd get married and she'd cook for me everyday and she'd be a great cook and I would get all the food I wanted for the rest of my life.” Another deep sigh, and the girl let her head fall into her arms, and nobody dared to laugh because it was painfully obvious she meant it too. Which, Bertholdt had to accept, surprised him more than should have.

“I'm sure you don't especially need a girlfriend for that. Many guys are good cooks too.” Chipped in Marco, always so kind and eager to see everybody happy. Bertholdt smiled to himself.

When he'd gone to Marco's during the weekend, he'd learned a lot about his boyfriend (he still couldn't get used to the word, but he was trying!). One, Marco was a horrible mommy's boy. Two, that wasn't horrible at all, because the cookies they'd baked were delicious. Three, the taste the snacks had left in his boyfriends mouth were heavenly. Or perhaps his boyfriends mouth was simply heavenly. Or maybe it was just that Bertholdt had never french kissed before and he couldn't even try to deny how much he liked it. And how much it turned him on... He cast a glance at the boy sitting next to him, the freckles adorning his face, the soft smile in his eyes, the slightly dry lips and the wet wonders they hid- ok, mind, what had we said about that gutter again? Gosh. Back to Sasha!

The girl made a sceptic face. “You cook, Marco?”

“Yes.”

“Bertholdt?” She asked right after, clearly going somewhere.

“Euhm- a little...”

“Reiner?”

“Nah.” (Eva whispered a sweet and tempting I'll-cook-for-you-baby on Reiner's side, and Bertholdt wasn't sure if it was adorable or nauseating. He had always been conflicted regarding petnames...)

“And I know for a fact Connie can't cook for shit. So, in conclusion, gay men cook. I am not a man. Therefore I need to get a girlfriend. Gosh guys can be so slow at times-”

Reiner sniggered, Connie pretended to be offended for only a split moment, then he broke into laughter at the sight of the tall black haired boys on opposite side of the table both blushing furiously. Bertholdt worse that Marco, yet still strangely in sync.

“Well, that's not really-” Marco started, uncertain of how to counter her argument.

“The sample is far too small to pull any real conclusions from.” Came suddenly Bertholdt's soft voice, tinted with an unusual hint of confidence. “You shouldn't really generalize like that...”

“Objection!!” Connie yelled as he slammed his fist into the table, rising halfway onto the bench, hovering over Sasha, an accusing finger pointed at her face. He spoke with the harshest tone his still cracking voice could manage, whilst Bertholdt tried to sink into his seat, feeling many of the surrounding tables glance in their direction. “Your honour, the defendant is generalizing! Motion to dismiss whatever they just claimed to be true!”

“Sustained.” Boomed Reiner's deep voice, his face solemn, and the girl on his arm giggled softly. Under the table Marco's hand had slipped to Bertholdt's knee and squeezed gently. The boy's eyes met, and the freckled kid smiled reassuringly. Almost as if he'd noticed how uncomfortable the antics his words had brought on made him. He knew his friends meant no harm and weren't really making fun of him, but it still felt like they were. He stared at his plate, embarrassed.

“No, but seriously,” Reiner spoke up again, attitude normal this time, and he smirked in Bertholdt's direction, “Bertl's right, just because Connie and I are losers doesn't meant all straight guys are. Have some fate in alpha males, Sash.” He grinned even wider when Connie started at him with a face coated in utter betrayal and mouthed 'loser, me?!' at the blonde.

Sasha didn't accept defeat, still claiming she wasn't quite sure about the sexuality that'd suit her best (clearly assuming it was a life-choice she had to make for the sake of her stomach), but the topic wasn't pushed further.

Waiting in the classroom for their math teacher, Marco congratulated Reiner. The boy shrugged, but smiled happily. Bertholdt felt a smile creep onto his face too at seeing his friend so content, but he did wonder why it had never come up before. He'd think him and Reiner were close enough to share it when they had a crush or so, being best friends and all- after all, he knew he could trust Reiner with what was going on between him and Marco, he just didn't feel the need to talk about it yet! Like, he wanted to figure it out himself before he told anybody... but Reiner was a blabbermouth! He'd have yelled it off rooftops if he was crushing on a girl, right?

The answer to this dilemma came smooth and simple though.

“She asked me out on sunday. We ended up not watching much of the movie, if you get my drift. She looks all shy and blushes, but is a lot more go-get than you'd expect, haha- not that I mind, of course.” The cocky smile that slithered onto his face suited so perfectly, though not completely natural, still hiding a little uncertainty.

“Lucky you.”

“Yes,” Reiner spoke, almost solemn and, dare he think so, heartfelt, “I am.”

\---

It doesn't come as unexpected to either of the boys that, after burning in the back of their minds, the topic of their own relationship comes up a few days later.

Sitting on the same bench they occupied the week before, hands again entwined and warm between their thighs, it is Bertholdt that brings it up. “Do you... do you think we should maybe... euhm... officialize it? I mean, us?” He glanced at Marco, sideways, tentative.

“I wouldn't mind. At all, actually,” and that sweet smile Marco smiles whenever they're just the two of them, the one Bertholdt's has come to associate with the fluttery feeling in his stomach, covers the boys face. “But they are your friends, so you should see when you're comfortable...”

“They are your friends too.” A nudge to the shoulder.

“Well, of course, but they've been yours for longer.” A nudge back.

“Huhm...” Bertholdt falls silent, lost in thought. He wasn't really sure why he was hesitating. At this point he was starting to doubt he could ever make any decisions without it. He would hate it if that were a true unchangeable part of his personality though.

Before he got too deeply lost in ponderings, Marco leaned in, pressed a open mouthed kiss to his jaw, and pulled away as if it meant nothing. “There are certain benefits to having people know.”

Bertholdt blushed, but it was a happy blush. He liked this kind of attention, the sweet caring personal touch. But... “I don't think I'd be very comfortable with public displays of affection though...” He mumbled.

Marco shrugged, everlasting smile untouched. “It's more about feeling comfortable that we don't have to hide it. But,” the smile wavered, “if you really don't want to that is fine too...”

It clearly wasn't though. And Bertholdt felt that he too wouldn't be fine with it.

“Ok,” he whispered, as he leaned into the other boy, and rested his head against his, “I don't mind. I'm going to tell Reiner first though. We can tell the rest at lunch tomorrow.”

The head under his rustled, and Bertholdt could feel the happiness radiating off him. “Ok.” He whispered back.

\---

Reiner grinned.

“I have to say, I am not surprised at all.”

“What?”

“I've been rooting for you guys since, like, day one or so? Why did you only get together now?”

“Actually, it was about two weeks ago...”

“No!? And you didn't tell me? When did this happen exactly?”

Bertholdt did his best not to squirm under his friends glance. He hated interrogations like these. He could put up with it from Reiner, anybody else and he'd have long fled, but he still didn't like it. They stood in the parking lot behind school, and still had a good few moments to do their conversation, but Bertholdt was starting to wish the bell would ring sooner rather than later. “Well, I... euhm... when Charlotte was sick... and you couldn't come to play games, he was already there so we-”

“You went and played PS2 without me?” Reiner looks positively heartbroken.

“Well, he-”

“You played your games on your playstation with a friend of yours while I wasn't present?” He reformulated, the despair even thicker in his voice. And yes, by now Bertholdt realize his leg was being pulled.

“Stop it, I'm being serious.” His fist found Reiner's muscle packed shoulder, hitting it harder than he would normally dare. The blond had the good sense to fake pain, though Bertholdt was convinced he'd barely felt a thing. None the less the reaction made him feel a little better.

“Ok, ok, I'm sorry. I'm just happy for you.” He slung a arm over Bertholdt's shoulders and motioned at the sky. “Relationships, relationships everywhere. I'm glad I'm no longer alone in the land of the compromised.” His smirk was sparkling white, and Bertholdt huffed.

“We've been together for longer.”

Reiner opened his mouth in feigned shock. “Rude!”

“Please stop it.”

“Fine, fine, I'm sorry.” He ruffled Bertholdt's hair, and true to his word he put a pause to his dramatics. “So am I the first or last to know?” He asked casually, then added with mostly honest desperation, “Please tell me I am not the last loser to know and that you've been hiding this from me alone. Because I'm breaking up our best-friendship if you keep good news from me.”

The taller boy smirked, painfully satisfied and nearly gleeful at hearing their relationship going unchallenged. “I wonder...” He sensed Reiner's glare on his cheek, and, horrible sap that he was, couldn't bring himself to torture his friend (best friend!) any further. “We're telling the rest at lunch.”

Reiner clasped his heart. “Thanks heavens. There is a sadist somewhere in you, Bertl, and I don't think I like him much.”

And that was that. Marco told the rest of their friends during lunch break, and nobody seemed truly surprised. Sasha stole Connie dessert, victoriously claiming it as her spoils for winning the bet. The boy mumbled back that “it wasn't over yet”, narrowing his eyes at her, and Bertholdt really didn't want to know what that was all about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just noticed I still had this. AS A DRAFT ON AO3 ALREADY. Why the hell did I never post it?  
> Anyway, long forgotten chapter to celebrate the death of this. Updating the tag to discontinued :c  
> Which is kinda sad, coz now that I checked this chapter, this was kind of fun... Maybe if we get more shingeki anime I might get back into it again, and grab this once more, but the odds are not in it's favour.

**Author's Note:**

> Clarifications:  
> \- If school workings seem strange to you: sorry. It's a big world and I rather run with what I know than make shit up. This is set in some kinda pseudo non-place anyway.  
> \- When I say football I mean association football.  
> \- I also really miss writing Jean :'c /unrelated
> 
> Thank you for reading! c:


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